


Recovery

by demon_faith



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-13
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 12:03:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4521225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demon_faith/pseuds/demon_faith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur can barely stand and Merlin can't stand to wait. A holiday from Camelot is in order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://helva2260.livejournal.com/profile)[helva2260](http://helva2260.livejournal.com/), who won me through [](http://help-pakistan.livejournal.com/profile)[help_pakistan](http://help-pakistan.livejournal.com/) with generosity and tenacity!
> 
> AU after 'Le Morte D'Arthur'. Leon makes an appearance.

After three long weeks, Merlin declared war.

He could put up with whinging, whining, moaning, complaining, nagging and demanding, but when Arthur threw a chamberpot at Gwen, enough was enough.

Sweeping up the fragments of broken pottery, Merlin shot Arthur a look of exasperation.

"You are an ungrateful prat, sire."

Arthur folded his arms, mulish and sullen. Merlin knew the position had to hurt him, the line of skin in the centre of his forehead deepening with every second. Yet there was no way that Arthur would yield, would show even a shred of weakness before he'd managed to make his point.

"No one asked you to be here, Merlin. Now get out."

Fearing for his stubborn prince's shoulder, Merlin left with a short bow and the beginnings of a plan forming in his mind. He had to get Arthur away from Camelot, or he would turn the whole castle against him and rot in his chambers for the next six months, weak as a kitten and stormy as thunder.

Then, Merlin had an idea.

~

An hour before dawn, Merlin opened the door to Arthur's chambers and crept inside.

Gingerly, he sat on the edge of Arthur's bed and placed a hand on his good shoulder. "Arthur?"

Arthur sat up suddenly and then wavered. Merlin put an arm across his chest and steadied him with the other hand. "Easy, sire."

"Merlin, let me go. And get out."  
The words were ground out through a clenched jaw but Merlin held on to him, leaning in close.

"You are dizzy, in agony and exhausted. I'm not letting you go."

After a moment's struggle, Arthur finally relaxed into the touch, head flopping against Merlin's shoulder. "I hate this," he whispered.

Merlin closed his eyes, resting his forehead against Arthur's in a moment of indulgence. "I know. But I have a plan to get you better."

Arthur groaned. "Unless you have a plan to conjure up a new shoulder, it's not going to work."

Merlin tried not to flinch. "Better. We're going to the hunting lodge."

Arthur tried to raise his head. "Do I look like I'm in any state to hunt, Merlin?"

"We're going there because it's far from everyone else. Two knights, two maids, and a peaceful forest a day's ride from Camelot. Gaius put it to the king last night."

Arthur turned his face into Merlin's neck, sending butterflies through Merlin's stomach. "You're not coming?"

Merlin sighed. "Of course I am. You'd be lost without me."

"It would be quiet without you. Also, I might get some sleep."

Merlin carefully lowered Arthur back to the pillow, wincing at how pale he looked, lips pressed together against the pain. He picked up the warm tankard by Arthur's bed and held it up to him.

"White willow bark," he said and Arthur drank it down, before settling beneath the blankets.

"When do we leave?"

"Dawn," Merlin replied. "I'll gather your things together."

Arthur was sinking into the mattress, as the willow bark soothed his aches. "Horseback?"

"Covered wagon." Arthur pulled a face. "With a whole roast chicken." Arthur smiled and dozed off.

As the first rays of sun peered through the window, Merlin reluctantly woke his prince. "Time to go."

"M'not dressed," Arthur mumbled sleepily. Merlin bundled him into his summer cloak and his hunting breeches. They hung loose on him, once-powerful muscles weakened by three weeks confined to his room.

"Sword. I'm not leaving-"

Merlin held up the sword, then strapped it to the last of the baggage. Two maids bobbed in the doorway and took the bags away, as Merlin helped Arthur to his feet. Arthur tried to push him away.

"They can't...see me."

Merlin held on. "There's just me. And I already know you're a prat, sire."

Arthur let Merlin take most of his weight and they shifted slowly through the castle. The corridors were clear, everyone kept busy elsewhere and Merlin subtly pushing them to abandon the corridors when their errands brought them too close. The whole point of this trip was that Arthur couldn't be seen – a weak Crown Prince meant a weak Camelot, and Merlin didn't know if Arthur's heart could take the shame.

The short walk to the traders' courtyard left Arthur exhausted and he clung to Merlin's shoulder, emitting little pained grunts with every step.

"Nearly there, sire."

"Stop "siring" me, Merlin," Arthur said between gritted teeth. "I'm not made of glass."

Merlin affected his most innocent look as Sir Balin and Sir Leon came into view. "What then – frogs and snails and puppy dog tails? Or are princes goosedown and gold?"

Arthur wheezed out a laugh. Leon started forward, but Merlin warned him off with his eyes. If Arthur had to accept help from his knights, he would never live it down. Personally, Merlin thought being nearly-poisoned to death by a magical monster gave even princes the right to accept a helping hand but it was a minor miracle that Arthur was letting Merlin do this much.

They stumbled up the two steps into the covered wagon and Merlin let the curtain fall closed, light filtering through the canvas. He guided Arthur to perch on the edge of the cushions, gently pressing him down.

"I'm not lying down. I'm sick of lying down." Whingey Arthur – Merlin's personal bane.

"You'll jar your shoulder less this way," Merlin said, patiently, before placing the back of his hand to Arthur's forehead. "You're hot."

Arthur swiped his hand away. "Stop petting me like a girl, Merlin."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Gaius isn't coming, so from this point on, I'm also your physician." His smile turned smug. "So you have to do what I say."

Arthur smiled. "God help me."

Merlin laughed and pulled the blanket over Arthur before leaning out the back of the wagon. "Sir Leon, the prince is ready."

The knight nodded to him and their little party set out from Camelot. Merlin settled beside Arthur, cross-legged on the floor of the wagon. The inane chatter of the maids filtered dimly through the canvas as they steered the wagon. Merlin watched Arthur, his features relaxing into a pain-free sleep.

He'd done little but sleep and shout for weeks, not strong enough to leave his bed except to sit in the chair. Arthur had never coped well with being cooped up indoors and Merlin, stuck to his side out of loyalty and by royal command, bore the brunt of his bad temper.

Gaius had recovered well from his "summer cold" and Uther had removed him to guest chambers to ensure a speedy return to health. Gwen had promised to look out for him, even though Merlin knew she wished to come with them.

Merlin ignored the little stab of jealousy he felt when he thought of how Gwen had nursed Arthur, when Merlin couldn't. Because Merlin had been out trying to sacrifice himself to the Old Religion so that Arthur might live. Something that Arthur would never, ever know.

Arthur could, of course, do so much worse than Gwen. Gwen who was kind and considerate, and could remarkably put up with Arthur and put him in his place. And, of course, the idea of Arthur ever looking at Merlin like that...

Merlin shook his head. It was his Destiny to watch over Arthur and keep him safe. And remain frustratingly celibate, clearly.

Merlin stretched out on the floor of the wagon. He might as well get some rest – Arthur would yell if he needed him.

~

Arthur woke with a start. The wagon was dusky darkness and still swaying – he'd slept the day away. But what had disturbed him?

Glancing over, he saw Merlin twisted on the floor, a yell caught in his throat as he fought an invisible monster.

"No...no...you can't take him!"

Something wrenched in Arthur's gut and he leaned over, hand resting on Merlin's shoulder. "Merlin, wake up."

Merlin cried out again. "I won't let you have him." Arthur shook him, scared now: there were tears on Merlin's cheeks. "Take me – please."

"Merlin!"

Merlin's eyes flew open. "Arthur!"

Arthur squeezed his shoulder, opening his hand as Merlin sought his fingers.

"Bad dream. We're safe." Arthur grasped at Merlin's hand, reassuring himself as much as Merlin. His throat was dry and his heart beat hard in his chest. What had Merlin meant? What monster did he barter with in his dreams?

Finally, Merlin turned his head towards Arthur, embarrassment staining his cheeks. "Sorry."

Arthur didn't let go, wheels slowly turning in his head. Merlin looked exhausted – he hadn't left Arthur's room for two weeks, except to check on Gaius and find his spare shirt.

But that first week, as the fever finally fled from his bones, Arthur only remembered seeing him once. Standing in his room and telling him he would be a great king. _Just don't be a prat_

The kind of prat that would run off in the middle of the night to make a deal with the devil. Gwen said she'd seen Hunith in the city, terribly unwell – but now she was better. And then Gaius had come down with that terrible cold, bad enough for his father to fuss and order him removed from the physician's quarters until he'd recovered.

_Take me – please._

"Arthur? Are you all right?"

And then Merlin was reaching for him again, checking his forehead, fussing with that lingering fear in his eyes. Everyone had looked at Arthur like that since he'd first woken from the fever, but none held Merlin's tinge of _failure_.

"Fine," he said, mind reeling. "Are we almost there?"

Merlin sat up, giving up his hold on Arthur, and poked his head out of the back of the wagon.

"Leon?"

Oh, it was 'Leon' now. Arthur had never failed to be impressed at how Merlin worked his way into everyone's hearts – even his father held him in a grudging regard.

"Another mile, Merlin. We've made good time. How is he?"

Great – even Leon sounded worried. Arthur moodily pushed himself up, wincing as his shoulder protested.

"Contriving to break his arm again."

And then his shadow was back, taking all the weight off his shoulder and gently folding his arm against his chest.

"I can manage," he snapped, testily. If Merlin thought getting him out of the castle was an excuse to mother him, he was sadly mistaken.

But Merlin refused to be riled. "Would his Royal Prattishness prefer to fall on his face?"

"That was only once," Arthur muttered darkly.

Merlin reached across the wagon with his free hand and picked up a plate of bread and cheese. "Hungry?"

The rolling sick feeling of the past three weeks persisted but Arthur would try. Yet he knew he couldn't lean like this to eat – more shameful weakness.

Merlin read his mood and, anticipating the plate's trajectory across the wagon, swung behind Arthur.

"Not ideal," he mumbled, but Arthur was too shocked at the contact, the warmth of Merlin pressed against his back. He lifted his good arm, his weight resting comfortably on Merlin's surprisingly solid chest.

Arthur forced himself to pick at the plate resting on his lap, as Merlin's strength held them both up. It should make him feel embarrassed, but all he felt was comfort and warmth, the scent of Merlin surrounding him as he let his head fall back on his shoulder.

"Not that hungry."

"Just eat the cheese."

"Slavedriver."

"Prat."

Arthur smiled sleepily and nibbled at the cheese.

The wagon started to slow after a while before coming to a halt. Merlin moved and Arthur leaned against the side of the wagon, propped on his good arm, and watched Merlin nearly fall off the back. Leon steadied him with a laugh – and Arthur scowled, then wondered just why.

Leon started reporting to Merlin as if he were expedition commander. "The maids have gone ahead to air the place and start the fires. We should have everyone settled before we lose the light completely."

Merlin nodded to him and leapt back into the wagon. "We're here!"

Arthur nodded and prepared to leave the wagon, mind still turning over and over what he had heard. He would ask Merlin about it later, he thought. He had to know the truth.

~

When Arthur was safely ensconced in a nest of blankets in his bedroom (an exact replica of his suite in Camelot, right down to the chamberpots), Merlin wearily descended the stairs to the kitchen.

Sir Balin and Sir Leon sat at the table playing cards, as Emma and Caroline cleaned up the last of their simple supper. They cleared a space for him and Merlin sat gratefully. He was still bone tired; when he had managed to catch some sleep in the past fortnight, the nightmares had woken him soon after.

He thought back to the incident with Arthur in the wagon. He hoped the prince would let it go, but unless he found a good distraction, he knew Arthur was smart enough to work it out.

"Merlin? What time shall we rise tomorrow?"

Merlin belatedly realised everyone was looking at him. "Uh..." he said, brimming with intelligence. Sir Leon grinned.

"This was your idea, Merlin. I hope you weren't hoping in the healing power of the forest."

Merlin shook his head with a weak grin. "We'll walk down to the lake in the morning and take it from there. I'll need you for the...swordy bits."

Balin and Leon exchanged glances and burst out laughing. Balin clapped him on the shoulder. "What will we do with you, Merlin?"

Merlin laughed with them, and then excused himself for the night, returning to Arthur's rooms. As he opened the door, Arthur looked across at him.

"Don't you have a bed to go to?"

"The maids are still airing the place." Merlin settled into the chair by Arthur's bed, Arthur's blue eyes watching him.

"You'll hurt your neck," Arthur said softly. Merlin actually had a permanent crick in his neck from sleeping in this chair's twin for the past fortnight.

"I won't be here long," he lied, already sinking into the cushion. Arthur's eyes drifted closed and Merlin joined him in sleep soon after.

~

Merlin dressed Arthur in his hunting clothes and made a sling for his arm. Arthur tolerated the fussing patiently, studying Merlin's frown of concentration as he wrestled with the knot behind Arthur's neck.

"There. Ready?"

"You haven't told me where we're going."

Merlin grinned, clearly enjoying his surprise. Arthur rolled his eyes and let Merlin place his shoulder under Arthur's arm. With his willow tea and a slice of bread in his stomach, Arthur felt able to manage the stairs.

When they emerged from the hunting lodge, the warmth of the sun hit him, sinking into his shoulder and fully waking him. The knights and maids were waiting for him outside and Leon approached them.

"Good morning, sire. Merlin, should I fetch the wagon?"

Arthur was amused at how Merlin seemed to be in charge of this operation. Merlin looked over Arthur appraisingly.

"We'll walk."

They took a slow pace downhill, the knights chatting to him over Merlin's head, as if this were just any other hunt. After a while, Balin fell back to talk to the maids and help them carry the day's supplies.

Arthur felt his body start to flag, but Merlin kept them walking at the same even pace, keeping up the chatter with Leon as Arthur struggled to keep his breath.

The lake spread out before them and the little jetty was a few paces away. Leon fetched a chair from the boathouse and Arthur sat down stiffly, ready to sleep again.

"Let's get set up – we'll begin in ten minutes."

Merlin knelt in front of him and grinned. Arthur scowled.

"Begin what? Royal torture? An acrobatics display?"

Merlin shook his head, still smiling. "Your training."

Arthur looked at him incredulously.

"Training? Merlin, I couldn't even walk down the road."

Merlin shrugged. "We'll start slowly then."

He got up and went to join the others, preparing the rest of this misadventure. He reappeared after a few moments and reached for Arthur's hand. Arthur reluctantly accepted the grip and allowed himself to be hauled upright – and then caught when he overbalanced.

"Let's get this off." Merlin removed the sling and pushed off his jacket, before taking off his shirt.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Was there any point in dressing me this morning?"

Merlin grinned – and Arthur didn't think he'd smiled this much since Arthur's coronation. Merlin took off his own shirt and Arthur realised he'd never seen so much of Merlin's skin before. Merlin was oblivious to Arthur's distraction and supported him, as they turned towards the lake.

It was then that Arthur noticed his knights were in the water, also stripped down to their breeches and splashing each other like a pair of children. The maids were giggling by the boathouse and Arthur suddenly felt self-conscious. His skin was pale from lack of sunlight and his muscles were weakened, his ribs too prominent.

"God, I hate it when they giggle," Merlin mumbled and Arthur looked at him, bemused. Merlin was blushing, pink from the centre of his chest to the tips of his ears. And Arthur thought, really, he had nothing to be ashamed of.

If Arthur were a maid, he'd tumble him in a heartbeat.

With the shock of that revelation kicking him in the stomach, Arthur found himself sitting by the water, his boots in Merlin's hands.

The cold water lapped at his feet and Merlin helped him sit in the shallows, the water bracingly cold. Merlin waded out further and ended up in the middle of Leon and Balin's water fight.

Arthur grinned at their antics and then pushed himself forward, his perch falling away to nothing. He just about got his legs under him and stumbled through the water to their melee.

With one well-aimed splash, he took out Leon, but Balin, reacting on instinct, sent a ripping wave in his direction. Arthur fell backwards and landed hard on the pebbles, arms flailing and water up to his neck.

There was absolute silence. Then Arthur burst out laughing and the others joined him, as Merlin eased him up off the lake bed. "All right, sire?"

"Nothing bruised but my ego," Arthur said, briskly, and then surged forward, soaking Balin with a huge splash.

Arthur threw himself into the battle, staggering drunkenly through the water, muscles burning but spirit light.

In his crowning moment of victory, he dunked Merlin under the water and left him spluttering, causing the maids to giggle more and Arthur taking a moment to catch his breath. Somehow, he didn't think the image of a flustered, soaked Merlin would be leaving him anytime soon.

After half an hour of horseplay, Arthur felt tiredness creeping up on him. Merlin spirited him out of the water and dried him with a warm towel beside the cooking fire. The smell of chicken stew rose from the cauldron and Arthur sniffed it at greedily, hungry for the first time in days.

They ate together, servants and knights, and Arthur learned that Emma was the cook amongst them, her craft honed by the pursuit of her husband, and that Caroline was being nobly pursued by Balin with all the subtlety of a battering ram.

After lunch, he didn't protest when Merlin helped him lie on the warm grass, the noonday sun streaming down on his face.

~

Arthur stood alone, upright on his traitorous, shaking legs. Leon stepped forward solemnly and placed his sword in his hand. It felt good there, but it weighed heavy and Arthur realised his arm could barely hold it.

Leon started forward to move his arm, then stopped. Arthur glared.

"Sir Leon, I need an honest trainer. Are you the man for the task?"

Leon bowed his head. "Yes, sire."

Arthur grinned, struggling not to waver. "Then get on with it."

Leon moved his feet and Arthur felt his weight shift onto abused muscles. He gritted his teeth and held the stance, his back settling into alignment as he squared his shoulders.

The movement sent a bolt of agony down his arm and he dropped his sword to clutch at his shoulder. He felt his body list to the side and Leon caught him, lowering him to the ground and calling for Merlin as if the boy were his nursemaid.

Still, Merlin's hot breath against his neck and his warm hands over his throbbing shoulder soothed him and, when he came back to himself, the last of the pain was leaving his shoulder and Merlin's pale, worried face was before his. "Arthur?"

Arthur struggled to his feet, batting Merlin aside. "Let's go again."

Leon looked aghast. "Sire, perhaps we should-"

"Again, Leon."

Arthur pushed his body back into position, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder. Leon led him through basic drill, the first swings he'd taken at five years old. His muscles remembered the movements, though they ached with every demand.

At the end, though, he staggered towards Merlin, grinning and bone tired, the thrum of satisfaction in his veins. "I feel like running to Camelot."

Merlin sighed and caught Arthur as he swayed. Arthur's joy would not be subdued, however, and he led Leon and Balin in victory songs all the way back to the lodge, leaning on Merlin's shoulder as a familiar crutch.

~

Merlin had watched Arthur eat his way through half a chicken and a loaf of bread with glee. As they ascended the steps to his bedroom, Merlin felt Arthur's full weight resting on his shoulders but he didn't mind. It was good to see Arthur's genuine smile again.

Emma and Caroline had prepared a hot bath, which Arthur slipped into, aching muscles soothed by the hot water and scented oils. Merlin tidied up the room, the day catching up with him as he yawned.

He had promised himself that he'd let Arthur heal naturally, that mixing his magic with the power of the Old Religion was a disaster waiting to happen. But when he'd seen Arthur doubled over in agony, delirious with pain, the magic had leapt to his fingers, chasing the pain away and giving Arthur new strength.

The drain on his magic had tired him out and it took considerable effort to haul Arthur out of the tub. Arthur moaned as he lay on the bed and took his willow tea without complaint. Merlin changed the bandages on his shoulder – the wound was almost healed, and Merlin would leave it uncovered in a few days.

Without thought, he let his hand rest on the wound, a scatter of gold falling from his fingertips and sinking into the muscles. Arthur smiled sleepily. "S'nice."

Merlin replaced the bandage guiltily and pulled the blankets up over Arthur.

"Sleep well, Arthur."

As the prince's eyes fell closed, Merlin ghosted a kiss over his forehead, before collapsing into his chair and letting sleep take him.

~

After three training days, Merlin was starting to feel the strain. He'd found his magic leaching from his hands of its own accord, nudging Arthur through the day and banishing his pain into nearby blades of grass and unsuspecting fish.

After Arthur was safely tucked in bed, Merlin descended the stairs to look for some watered wine in case Arthur woke thirsty. The candlelight danced before his eyes, blurring into streaks, and he faltered on the steps, gripping the wall for support as the stairwell started to spin.

"Merlin? Are you all right?"

A strong arm tugged him upright and he struggled to focus on Leon's concerned eyes. "M'fine," he slurred, determined to steady himself and escape from the force of Leon's worry.

"You've been working harder than any of us. You need to rest."

"I will," Merlin said, fervently, pulling away from Leon and turning back up the stairs. "Goodnight."

He felt Leon's stare boring into his back as he shakily made his way back up the stairs and curled up on the rug at the foot of Arthur's bed. It would be better in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur can barely stand and Merlin can't stand to wait. A holiday from Camelot is in order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [](http://helva2260.livejournal.com/profile)[helva2260](http://helva2260.livejournal.com/), who won me through [](http://help-pakistan.livejournal.com/profile)[help_pakistan](http://help-pakistan.livejournal.com/) with generosity and tenacity!

By the end of the week, Arthur felt like a new man. Admittedly, he was a new man closer to Gaius' age than his own, but he could now walk unaided and hold his sword firm in his hand.

He was parrying some slowed attacks from Balin, Leon shouting encouragement from a safe distance, when Merlin and Caroline said they were going fishing. Arthur wished them well – even he was getting sick of chicken.

From the triumphant calls to Emma, he figured they were doing well but tried to keep his focus. It was growing more difficult to ignore Merlin. Not only did he take his shirt off every morning for their swim, but he seemed to be even more tired, dark circles under his eyes and lapsed conversation at dinner. Arthur would have to stop him sleeping in that chair like his own personal guard dog.

Arthur finished his training and headed along the jetty to check on their fish. Caroline carried a basket past him, as Merlin tied up the boat. Arthur smiled as Merlin pulled himself up onto the jetty, the line of muscles shifting under his shirt.

"Merlin!" he called, wanting to see that smile of recognition, the flame of joy behind his friend's eyes.

Merlin looked up quickly. For a moment, he smiled – then, his eyes rolled up and he fell backwards into the lake.

Arthur cried for Leon, already charging down the jetty. He heard Balin's warning shout just before he leapt into the water.

Arthur plunged beneath the surface, searching frantically for Merlin. He found him by the struts of the jetty, tangled in the weeds growing there. Arthur tugged at them uselessly, panic starting to consume him.

He surfaced. "Balin – your knife!"

Balin slid it across the deck and Arthur seized it, diving again and cutting Merlin free.

He pulled him into open air, his shoulder screaming at the effort, but he would not let go.

"Merlin! Breathe, damn you!"

Merlin spluttered weakly against his chest and Arthur clutched him closer, trying to quiet his racing heart.

Leon and Balin pulled Merlin out of his arms, before heaving Arthur up after him. Merlin curled up on his side, coughing up water and struggling to snatch a breath. Arthur dragged himself over to Merlin and rubbed between his shoulders, flooded with relief that he was alive.

"Back to the lodge – we need to warm him."

Leon and Balin supported Merlin back up to the lodge. Arthur wished he could be the one to aid him but, while he could carry himself well enough, he would never be able to hold Merlin's flagging form upright.

Arthur ordered Caroline to prepare a hot bath. Leon and Balin took Merlin to Arthur's chambers, because he had never claimed any of his own, and Arthur stripped him down, casting aside his own clothes at the same time.

"I can manage," he snapped, fear driving him, and his knights bowed out gracefully, though he heard their worried murmurs from behind the door.

Merlin slumped in the tub, eyes fluttering closed. Arthur pressed his palm against Merlin's cheek and clambered into the bath in his breeches, grabbing Merlin's shoulder.

"You're an idiot, Merlin."

Merlin smiled, proving his idiocy beyond a shadow of a doubt. "Yes, sire."

"Merlin."

A wider smile. "Arthur."

Merlin opened his eyes fully then. They were bright with fever and he looked sickly, ready to drown himself again at any moment.

"I'm in your bath."

Arthur looked down then and realised he was kneeling over his manservant in the bath. His naked manservant.

"So you are," he said briskly. "Better than you freezing to death."

Arthur then awkwardly extracted himself, his shoulder starting to ache again, but he summoned enough strength to pull Merlin out of the water and make a half-hearted attempt to dry them both off while keeping Merlin upright.

Dragging an old nightshirt over Merlin's head, he ignored the boy's shaky smile. "I think you're mixed up, Arthur. I'm meant to dress you."

"Shut up, idiot. You can't even stand up."

Merlin proved him right by flopping onto the bed like a dying fish and Arthur roughly arranged the blankets around him before climbing in beside him, without thinking too much about what this might mean for his bedding of maids and heirs for Camelot.

"Arthur, I have to-"

"Shut up, Merlin, and go to sleep."

Arthur's own eyelids grew heavy and he placed a restraining hand on Merlin's chest, smiling the smug smile of the victorious.

~

The sun broke through the window and Arthur, master tactician and jolly good Crown Prince, attempted to extricate himself from his manservant's embrace without waking him.

However, it seemed Merlin would not even be woken by an attacking Dragon, so Arthur freed himself, shrugged on some clothes and went in search of food and knights.

He found Leon and Balin deep in conversation at the kitchen table. They tried to stand but he waved aside the courtesy and sat down to break bread with them.

"How's Merlin, sire?"

"Sleeping," Arthur said, voice carefully neutral. "We'll train in the courtyard this morning."

His knights exchanged glances, which he ignored and ate his breakfast.

In the sunshine of the courtyard, he loosened up his shoulder with a battery of practice swings and then set about knocking Balin to the ground in as few moves as possible.

While the young knight managed to knock him down a few times, there was definite improvement and Arthur thought he might even trouble Leon given a couple more weeks.

There was a loud clatter from the royal chambers. Arthur knocked aside Balin's blade and ran up the steps, breathless and aching. Slamming open his chamber door, he saw the idiot sprawled on the floor by the window, tangled in the sheets.

Merlin glanced over and had the temerity to grin. "Hi."

Arthur knelt beside him and pulled him into a sitting position. He saw Leon hovering in the doorway and waved him away. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Stocks?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Right now, not even the good children of Camelot would throw a potato at your pathetic hide."

Arthur heaved Merlin off the floor and back into bed, ignoring the spasms in his still-healing shoulder. "Go back to sleep, Merlin. I'll wake you for dinner."

Merlin nodded tiredly and closed his eyes. Arthur smoothed back the hair from his forehead and straightened the blankets.

It was only when he was halfway down the stairs that he realised what he'd done and the warm glow in his chest told him it was right.

~

The smell of chicken broth roused Merlin from sleep and he turned his head to see Arthur finish the last of his broth and mop out the bowl with his bread.

"S'good?"

Arthur looked up at him and smiled, genuinely pleased to see him. "You're finally awake then. Dinner?"

Merlin's stomach gave a loud rumble and Arthur laughed as he brought over Merlin's broth and bread.

Merlin weakly pushed himself up, leaning against Arthur's headboard. Arthur set the tray across his lap and Merlin looked at it, suddenly daunted by the effort required to lift the spoon to his mouth.

Arthur, showing great intuition and surprising consideration, lifted the bowl and placed it at Merlin's lips, tipping it gently. Merlin brought up his hands to cover Arthur's and took a large swallow of warm broth.

He managed about half the bowl and picked at the bread a little, trying to chase away the concern in Arthur's eyes.

"I'll be fine tomorrow," he protested and Arthur snorted.

"Oh, of course, Merlin. Leon told me about your little stairwell swoon. How long have you been keeping this from me?"

Merlin stared at his hands, filled with guilt. Here he was, supposed to be taking care of Arthur as he recuperated, and instead, Arthur was having to help him eat and had let him take over the royal bedchamber.

"It's not a big deal, Arthur."

A warm hand settled over his and Merlin looked up. Arthur's deep blue eyes were filled with fond exasperation.

"You're no good to me dead, Merlin."

Merlin swallowed past the lump in his throat but he couldn't find the words to reply. Arthur squeezed his fingers, sweeping a thumb over his wrist.

Merlin felt a strange thrum of anticipation surge through his body. Taking a breath, he interlaced his fingers with Arthur's, palm to palm, and raised their joined hands between them.

Arthur looked at him then, really looked at him, and pulled him forward, his free hand pressed into the centre of Merlin's back. "There's something about you, Merlin."

Merlin replied with his lips, pressing an unhurried kiss to Arthur's mouth. Arthur responded tentatively, almost nervous, and Merlin wanted to still time, preserve this moment forever: the prince with his heart bared before his warlock.

They parted for breath and Merlin gasped against Arthur's cheek, light-headed and light-hearted. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to tell Arthur his secret, to finally give him the truth.

But Arthur was already pulling away, gently pressing him down to the bed. "You need to rest."

Merlin frowned. "Arthur, I-"

"We'll talk in the morning, Merlin."

Arthur crossed the room and left his chambers without another word. Merlin stared at the gaping doorway, unsure of what had just happened. Arthur had seemed to want this, but then he'd fled from him.

Merlin stayed awake until the sun fell far below the horizon and exhaustion finally spared him from his thoughts.

~

Merlin woke to the clash of swords and thought they were being invaded.

He shook off the last clouds of sleep and prepared to defend Camelot – until he realised that they weren't in Camelot anymore and the sounds of battle were accompanied by peals of laughter floating through Arthur's bedroom window.

Merlin smiled to himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He still felt a little unsteady but he wasn't going to lie around while Arthur needed him. After a quick wash, he hunted down his clothes, slightly stiff from the river water, and dressed for the day.

He felt like a bag of bones, drained of magic and energy, and the thought of polishing Arthur's armour by hand or spell seemed impossible to him. Merlin gathered his strength and went downstairs, hoping breakfast might restore him.

Caroline fussed over him, blaming herself for his sudden dive into the lake, and he tried to reassure her by eating the bread thick with jam that she thrust into his hands. He felt bloated from the whole slice but thanked her warmly and then stepped out into the courtyard.

Arthur was sparring with Leon, a series of sword blows with no intent to strike. It seemed like a dance to Merlin, carefully co-ordinated for strength and reaction. Arthur seemed to be holding his own and Merlin watched proudly, his prince golden in the early morning sun.

Glancing over Leon's shoulder, Arthur caught a glimpse of him. His eyes widened and his sword arm fell – and Leon knocked him back into the dirt.

Merlin hurried forward, but Arthur was already getting to his feet. "You idiot! What are you doing out of bed?"

"Watching you fall on your arse, sire."

Balin stifled a laugh and Merlin brushed at Arthur's back and trousers, now covered with dust and dirt from rough stones. Arthur swiped away his hand then put an arm around his shoulders, looking him over.

"Take it easy, Merlin. We're not carrying you up those stairs again." Leon smiled good-naturedly and Merlin nodded.

"I wouldn't dream of it, good sir knight."

"Though Balin could use the exercise," Arthur quipped. Balin gestured with his sword, something that might get him hanged if Uther had been present, but Arthur just clapped him on the shoulder, before releasing them both.

"Again, Leon?"

"Again, sire."

Merlin and Balin stepped back, letting the sparring begin again. Merlin wondered if the friendliness was an act for his knights or if Arthur had truly forgiven him his lapse yesterday – "taking liberties with the royal person", or whatever executable offence that had been.

Not that Merlin regretted it. If that was the last kiss he ever had, he would die happy.

"Daydreaming again, Merlin?"

Merlin started, nearly knocking Arthur over in his surprise. Arthur chuckled and grabbed his flailing arm. "You were miles away."

"Just...thinking." Merlin found his eyes drifting to Arthur's lips and watched, enthralled, as a delicate pink blush warmed Arthur's cheeks.

Arthur cleared his throat. "We're heading down to the lake. You are to stay here and rest."

Merlin sighed. "I'm fine, Arthur. Really."

"And I will tell Gaius everything that had happened when we get back."

Merlin gaped. "Arthur, no-"

Arthur held up a hand. "If it's the only way to make you see sense, I will venture into the lion's den."

The sparkle in Arthur's eyes betrayed his mirth and Merlin smacked his arm, eliciting a grin.

"I'll see you this evening. And we can have that...talk."

Arthur's fingers danced over Merlin's wrist and it was his turn to blush. He waved shyly as Arthur set off down the path with his entourage, leaving Merlin alone at the hunting lodge.

He returned to Arthur's rooms – their rooms? – and started to tidy up, changing the bed linen and preparing Arthur's clothes for the laundry tub.

However, soon he felt his strength start to wane and, trying to erase Arthur's smug expression from his mind, Merlin curled up on the bed.

Just five minutes, he thought. It wouldn't hurt to have a little nap...

~

"Hey, who's been at our stash?"

Merlin bolted upright – voices outside the door, in the courtyard. Foreign voices.

"Horses in the stables and food on the table. Nobby food too. Boys, I think we've got our little prince here."

"I heard he was dead."

Merlin slid off the bed and reached for Arthur's spare sword. He had to warn Arthur before they walked unprepared into a host of bandits.

"Nah, crawled out of the grave. Looks like it too."

"So, this is where the bugger went."

Five distinct voices from the courtyard, and two more mumbling outside his door. Merlin crept towards the window to snatch a look past the curtains – twelve in the courtyard, then. From the distress of the horses, another in the stable – and could he hear sounds from the kitchen?

This was not good.

"Well, where is he now?"

"More important, like: has he found the goods? His daddy will have our necks for that lot."

Merlin carefully swung open the window. He'd have to climb down the side of the lodge and run to the lake. The very thought made him sick but he gathered himself for the task – Arthur was relying on him.

Suddenly, the door to his room opened. Merlin turned and found himself facing two very shocked smugglers, arms laden with amulets.

Merlin climbed onto the sill and grasped for a handhold. He grabbed hold of the thick vines on the lodge stone and hauled himself out, dropping the sword into the courtyard below.

The other bandits looked up and started pointing and shouting. Merlin managed to climb a couple of feet before the first arrow sailed past his ear. Gritting his teeth, he made for the tower, a small battlement from which flew the Pendragon flag. If he could just get within the shelter of the parapet, he could think for a minute-

An arrow sliced through his arm and Merlin lost his grip, held up by his left hand and a spark of magic. He forced his right arm to reclaim its hold, silently screaming in pain. Another foot, and another, and – finally – he was over the parapet and in the shelter of the battlement.

Roughly bandaging his arm with a strip of his shirt, Merlin concentrated and pointed at the sky. A plume of red sparks erupted out of the Pendragon flag, sailing high above the trees and causing alarm amongst the smugglers on the ground.

Merlin dared to peek over the parapet and what he saw chilled him.

"Right, boy – after him!"

~

Arthur knocked Balin onto the ground for the fourth time and grinned in victory. When he told Merlin tonight, his friend would smile proudly, touch his arm and maybe lean in-

Suddenly, the sky was filled with red sparks. Storm clouds rushed in but the fire still burned scarlet in the sky and Arthur felt his body move of its own accord, racing up the hill towards the lodge.

He knew Leon and Balin were at his heels, that he should tell Caroline and Emma to stay put, that they should have a plan of attack. Instead, all he could think was-

Merlin. Merlin's in there. They're attacking Merlin. Merlin's at the mercy of sorcerers.

He would kill them. Every last one of them.

And then they were upon them.

He counted thirteen in the courtyard – and gutted one on sight, roaring with anger. Leon was at his side, tearing through the bandits, and Balin danced around them, taking them down before they could draw weapons.

But Arthur couldn't think beyond the swing of the sword and the terror that Merlin might already be gone. Where was the sorcerer? And why did they always go for Merlin? How did they always know when Arthur wasn't around to protect him?

Five of the bandits had rallied, brandishing weapons designed to cause serious damage in close quarters. Adrenaline had carried Arthur so far, but he felt his muscles start to burn. With Leon and Balin at his back, he felt they had a chance. And then he could find-

"Arthur!"

Arthur didn't look up. He stabbed a man through the neck and tried not to think about his Merlin on the roof with a sorcerer, crying for help that Arthur couldn't quite give. If he failed him now, he didn't think he'd ever forgive himself.

Then, he heard a growl.

Arthur looked up.

A giant black dog was stood on the lodge roof, facing down Arthur's idiot manservant, who was attempting to hold it off with the burning spectre of the Pendragon flag.

"Sire!"

Arthur ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding being impaled on a pike, and slashed at his assailant's thighs. The man howled in pain and Leon drove his sword into the bandit's chest.

Balin was valiantly holding off the three remaining bandits when two more rushed from the lodge door, wielding a mace and a cleaver. Leon rushed to his aid but Arthur couldn't leave Merlin alone a second longer.

Arthur raced for the wall and started to climb the vines, desperate for handholds that would take him to Merlin. But his shoulder spasmed and he slid down the wall, angry and frustrated. He needed a miracle.

"Arthur! Get back!"

Arthur staggered backwards to see Merlin, wondering why his manservant would shout something so idiotic.

Merlin raised his hand.

And the building came down.

~

It was almost worth it: Arthur's stunned expression, the startled yelp of the falling gwyllgi, the satisfaction of reducing a small castle to a pile of rubble.

Too bad he was under the rubble.

And, if he somehow managed to escape with his life, Uther would hang him outside Arthur's window.

At least the gwyllgi was dead. At least he had saved Arthur.

Merlin coughed. His arm was stinging where the arrow had caught him, the skin pulled apart by the pressure of a crossbeam and a chunk of masonry. Everything ached and he was sure he felt the sticky crawl of blood over his face.

"MERLIN!"

Arthur. He could hear footsteps not too far above him – he was close to the surface then, not buried too deep.

"The tower was here, Arthur."

"Look – the flagpole!"

Leon and Balin – good men, who would do whatever Arthur told them and didn't think Merlin was a complete waste of space. He could hear someone crying – probably Caroline. She liked him too, and he had covered her carefully-pressed laundry in fallen castle.

Arthur, it seemed, cared enough to look for him. Whether it was merely to deliver him to his father for true justice remained to be seen, but Merlin wouldn't die under a pile of stones. When Arthur set his mind to something, he saw it through.

And seeing as there could be no doubt as to how the lodge had suddenly collapsed, Merlin thought he might as well make this a little easier. Summoning up a whisper of magic from the very depths of his reserves, he conjured the blue ball light, the one he had heard Arthur speak of wondrously from his quest to find the Morteus flower.

It passed through the stones as if they were pure air, floating upwards to the surface. Merlin heard Balin's shout first, then felt the stones around him shift in response to three armoured knights standing on them.

"Merlin, we're getting you out. Hold on."

He heard the clench of fear in Arthur's voice, felt a heavy weight lift from his chest, and he took a breath.

"There! He's right there!"

A crack of light – and then Arthur's hands were pushing away stones and splinters from his face, dust darkening his hair to a dull brown and panic clouding his brilliant blue eyes.

"Sorry," he whispered, but Arthur just held his head as Leon and Balin tore away the larger pieces of lodge that still pinned him in place.

Finally, he was free and Arthur gathered him up in his arms. "Don't you dare die on me," he ground out and Merlin closed his eyes, leaning against Arthur's chest.

"Wasn't planning to," he murmured.

Minutes blurred to hours and when he came back to himself, he was lying on a blanket by the lake, his head cradled in Arthur's lap.

"Of course, I just punched with my left hand – all knights of Camelot swing both ways."

A note of silence and then Merlin was surrounded by laughter, feeling Arthur's legs shake beneath him. He found himself smiling and a strong hand took hold of his.

"Merlin?"

Silence fell once more and Merlin forced his eyes open under the weight of expectation. Arthur's open, relieved smile warmed him and he squeezed Arthur's fingers.

"Well, look who's decided to join us."

Merlin heard the affection in the taunt and grinned, starting to rise. Arthur carefully forced him back down.

"Ah – rest. We have a long ride back tomorrow. Thankfully, the stables were left untouched by...the fight."

Merlin tilted his head then, taking in their little group. Leon was smiling at him, warm as always, and Caroline sat a little closer to Balin than was entirely appropriate. Emma ladled a small amount of stew into a bowl and passed it into Arthur's hands.

There were no signs that anyone thought anything amiss at all.

Balin leaned forward. "What was that then, Merlin? The dog that, uh, wielded all that magic?"

They were giving him an out, he realised. Mystical balls of light aside, his friends were prepared to put the whole thing down to the smugglers and their little pet. Merlin felt a rush of pure relief.

"A gwyllgi," he said, voice rough from dust. "I don't know how they captured it – or trained it."

Leon frowned. "The Grim? It would be a brave man who tried to tame such a force."

"The King will have to build the hunting lodge all from scratch," Emma said thoughtfully.

"The Great Hunt will have to wait for this year." Balin patted Caroline's knee, clearly thinking on what would be a better use of his time.

Merlin's eyes drifted closed again. He felt Arthur shift beneath him and then the muted sounds of people moving and preparing for sleep while attempting to be quiet.

"Merlin? Time for bed."

"Do I have to?" The petulant whine brought laughter to Arthur's lips and Merlin found himself lifted again, Arthur's left arm trembling slightly with the effort.

"I can walk, you know."

"Like Hell you can. Half a tower fell on your head."  
Merlin felt his back settle against pillows and he opened his eyes. They were inside the covered wagon, untouched since their arrival; Merlin had the vague recollection that he was meant to have done something about that but was now grateful for a bed that wasn't filled with dust and stone.

"You should've told me."

Ah. Trust Arthur not to be able to leave this alone for another second. Merlin looked at Arthur's sad eyes and reached for his hand, entwining their fingers.

"I didn't want you to keep my secret."

Arthur looked aghast. "I will keep it, Merlin. To the end!"

"I know that." The last thing he wanted was to argue, to have Arthur dragged from him by his secrecy and lies. "I trust you, Arthur, with my life – but I didn't want to make you a liar too."

Arthur kicked off his boots and settled on the royal bed, pulling the blankets around them like the old nursemaid he turned into whenever Merlin bumped his head.

"Go to sleep, Merlin. Tomorrow, we will discuss the very important reasons why you should not keep things from your Crown Prince."

Merlin was bold and slightly concussed and therefore reached out, securing his hand around Arthur's waist and dragging him closer, warmth radiating from Arthur's golden skin. "Mm...nothing at all?"

Arthur chuckled low in his throat and placed a chase kiss to Merlin's lips before settling his arms around him. "Oh, absolutely. I think you'll find the confession most satisfying."

And Merlin fell asleep, laughter in his heart and his prince wrapped around him, magic and warm and home.


End file.
